


The One That Got Away

by im_from_mars_duhh



Category: Hell Fest (2018)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Memories, Obsession, One-Sided Attraction, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:13:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25463770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_from_mars_duhh/pseuds/im_from_mars_duhh
Summary: The Other has tried so hard to move past his most recent outing and forget her, but as the days come and go his feelings continue to grow, and the tension finally comes to a head.
Relationships: The Other (Hell Fest)/Natalie (Hell Fest) (One-Sided)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	The One That Got Away

The days following the five person slaughter at Hell Fest came along slowly, one day turning into two, turning into five, turning into ten, and suddenly it had been two weeks. And just as suddenly, he couldn’t take it anymore.

The Other, as he had recently taken to calling himself (as it was how  _ she _ knew him), stood in his garage, staring at his locked cabinet of masks and momentos. He had spent the past two weeks trying his hardest to move on from his most recent massacre, but with an angry and obsessive personality such as his, it was hard for him to let things go. And this was definitely something that he could not let go.

She had gotten away.

That had never happened to him before. 

He was usually so meticulous with his killings, able to take full control of the situation and execute everything perfectly before moving on to the next victim.

But she had gotten to him, and had  _ gotten away _ .

Yes, it was not only her who had escaped him, one of her friends making it out alive as well, but  _ she _ was the cause. They wouldn’t have gotten away if she hadn’t fought back. If she hadn’t distracted him. It was her. It was all because of  _ her _ .

_ Natalie. _

The Other reached roughly into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, quickly finding the one for the lock on the cabinet without looking, its shape fitting into his palm like the missing piece of a puzzle.

He brought it up to the lock and slowly put it in, turning the key as quietly as he could, relishing the click it made as the lock opened, the noise sending a shiver down his spine. Reaching to the side he set the keys down onto the workbench next to him then removed the lock, placing it beside the keys, then grabbed ahold of the cabinets handles. Once again he moved slowly as he pulled them open, relishing the noise their squeaking hinges emitted as well.

His collection never ceased to amaze him. 

It sent another shiver down his spine, his heartbeat speeding up as he took in the different objects. His masks. His trophies. All reminders of what he’s done, what he’s accomplished. 

What he is.

He stares at his collection for a long while, hands still on the cabinet doors, eyes focused on one object in particular. A long strip of paper. 

The photos.

He had stolen the object from the photo booth she and her “date” had used, hoping to keep it as a reminder of one of the most intriguing kills he was sure to have yet, but that wasn’t how things panned out. Now it only served as a reminder of not only his only failure so far, but of one of the most intimate nights of his entire life.

He finally removed one hand from one cabinet door and slowly reached in, gently grabbing the photo and bringing it up to his face. He then brought his other hand down to stroke at the photo he had taken from her— _ such a personal moment he had stolen _ —completely disregarding the boy who was sat next to her as he imagined he was stroking her hair, just as he almost had in the empty restroom in the Deadlands of Hell Fest.

He allowed his mind to wander then as it seemed he was already beginning to recall that night. Without needing to, his memory quickly brought him back to that first encounter he had with her as he chased some girl into a random haunted house. He remembered trying to intimidate her and her friends; provoke some sort of reaction that could justify his attacking. He had gotten it; had already begun planning to kill the two other girls who were with her at the time, and had even begun to plan on killing her as well, getting into her space as she tried to leave to further provoke and intimidate her, but his plans were halted as she opened her mouth, speaking directly to him.

_ “Okay, just get back on script, guy. Your-your girl’s over there,” _ she had said, tone annoyed yet playful as she pointed off to the side at a hole in the wall. Caught off guard and curious, he had turned towards the hole as she continued to talk, then walked over to it to see if she was telling the truth. And wouldn’t you know it? She was.

Now, that was something that had never happened before. In all his years of killing, every person he had run into, every person he had provoked, never once had one person helped him, whether they realized it or not.

Interesting.

He had then proceeded to drag the girl out from the hole by her hair, shoving her down roughly in front of him and kneeling down next to her as he readied himself for the kill. Her crying and pleading had disturbed the two other girls, causing them to flee, but  _ she _ had stayed. 

Even more interesting.

His mind had begun to reel then and so he decided to see how far he could push her, see if she would opt out just as her friends had. It didn’t matter if she did, he would catch up with them all soon enough, but he was curious to see if she would stay and watch.

And she did.

Since the moment of its occurrence, this moment had begun to take a toll on The Other. He had tried to push it far from his mind, just as he did with all of the other memories of his nights out as his alternate self. It was a safety precaution, another life that he led that he couldn’t let blend with his main one, lest he be caught. But the deeper he got into this alternate life of his, how could he be expected to continue to keep the two seperate when the alternate life was the one truest to himself?

He stood there in front of the cabinet, his heartbeat quickening, the photo in his hand at risk of being crumpled by his fist, which began to grow white at the knuckles. His other hand, which he had imagined stroking her hair with, began to trail down his torso, stopping briefly to caress the wound she had left him with. It’s prominent ache had left the lower half of his body aching as well in the days since, though in a different way. Here, he  _ yearned _ .

Continuing on, his hand soon came in contact with the belt of his ever-tightening pants, undoing the buckle without so much as a thought and roughly shoving his boxers and pants down to his thighs, releasing his swollen cock from its confinement, head already weeping. He brought his hand to the head then, gathering the pre-cum that had begun to dribble down and gave himself a slow stroke as he coated himself, forgoing the use of any other form of lubrication. This would be rough, just as it always was. Just as was meant for him. Just as he liked it.

He thought back to that moment, the photo he was clutching helping greatly to refresh the image of her in his mind as he thought back to her standing in front of him, those big brown eyes of hers staring down at him in encouragement, challenging, as though she didn’t believe what he was doing was real. 

She would soon enough.

He remembered how the look on her face and the glint in her eyes had begun to change, becoming hesitant as he rustled the girl at his feet around a bit, grabbing at her mouth roughly to shut her up, as if to show the girl who was standing so assuredly before him that this wasn’t pretend; that what she was about to witness was real. It was another challenge from him, continuing this game of theirs to see if she could go through with it; to see if she  _ would _ . And once again, almost expectantly, _ she did _ .

His hand began to tug harder at his cock, becoming faster in pace as he recalled the event, panting. The sting of his dry fist pulling harshly at the sensitive skin only succeeded in making him harder.

The small grunts he was emitting became more audible as he approached the memory of the moment that everything shifted. The most intimate moment of his life. He could picture her clearly in his mind as he lifted his knife high in the air, challenging her once again, to which she goaded,  _ “Okay, just do it.” _ A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered those words and how she said them, tugging roughly at his cock as they rolled off the memory of her lips, pleasure jolting through him like a bolt of lightning.

Her eyes bore a hole in his mind as he remembered stabbing the girl at his feet. They had maintained eye contact through the event, staring at each other intensely, the air between them electric. It was her who broke the stare though, glancing down at the sound of the squelching noises the knife made in his victims stomach as he moved it around sharply, ensuring the kill. 

And then she looked back up at him.

A few quick, tight strokes near the head of his cock and he was cumming, shooting ropes over his fist and onto the ground as he remembered the look of confusion that took over her features as she watched him stand up, the corpse discarded in a heap between them. The confusion had quickly faded to fear though as they continued their intense stare, her features falling, an inkling of realization washing over her, eyes widening and clouding with horror. Then, the moment was broken as she left in a hurry.

He panted, hand still gripping himself tightly as he screwed his eyes shut, trying to savor the look that she had presented him with. She had been the first person to ever willingly witness one of his kills. She had watched him commit murder, even goaded him on, and as he had rewarded her with what she asked for, she had rewarded him with a look of true terror. It was one of the most gratifying looks he could have ever hoped to have received and he hadn’t even had to harm her for it. 

It had been such an intimate action they had taken part in. It felt like some sort of pact, or a bond. 

And from that moment on he was drawn to her.

Finally releasing himself, he reached forward and gently set the photo back down into the cabinet before walking over to his workbench and grabbing a rag, quickly wiping off his hand, cock, and the floor. He then pulled his pants and boxers back up and shoved the rag into his back pocket, then tucked himself back into his pants, which finally felt a bit less snug. He knew that wouldn’t last for long though.

Standing back in front of his collection, he glanced longingly down at the photos of Natalie one more time before shutting the cabinets doors and quickly locking it back up. Then, after pulling on the lock to make sure it was secure, he headed back into his house.

Now that he’d finally done the deed, The Other knew that he would never be satisfied, not until he was able to see her again. What would happen when he did, he didn’t know. All he knew now was that he had to get started on finding her, starting with the array of online news articles that had covered the story. There he should be able to get the basic information he would need to start looking for her, and then he would be one step closer to seeing her again. Her friend, the girl she had fought so valiantly to save, he could find as well and get to. That would be something for him to do on the side as he truly did not like to let things go and leave them unfinished. But Natalie? She was his main focus.

She was it.

She was the one that got away, and he was going to do anything to get her back.


End file.
